SciFi SongFest, Songs 60-61

Two songs about trying to survive nuclear fallout. (Bowie’s “When the Wind Blows” is from the soundtrack of the film of the same name.)

60. David Bowie, “When the Wind Blows” (1986):

61. The Postal Service, “We Will Become Silhouettes” (2005):

The ending of this video looks to me like it might have been filmed in Joshua Tree National Park. And the final scene reminds me of the final scene of Revenge of the Sith (partly because of the clothing):

In other news, the Bowie/sci-fi connection continues with this latest development.


This Gallant Will Command the Sun

— Let’s see; I think ’tis now some seven o’clock,
And well we may come there by dinner-time.
— I dare assure you, sir, ’tis almost two,
And ’twill be supper-time ere you come there.
— It shall be seven ere I go to horse. …
It shall be what o’clock I say it is. …
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
— The moon? The sun! It is not moonlight now.
— I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
— I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
— Now by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father’s house. …
— Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
And if you please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
— I say it is the moon.
— I know it is the moon.
— Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.
— Then, God be bless’d, it is the blessed sun;
But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it nam’d, even that it is,
And so it shall be so for Katherine.
(Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew)

 

— How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?
— Four.
— And if the party says that it is not four but five – then how many?
— Four. …
— How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?
— I don’t know. I don’t know. You will kill me if you do that again. Four, five, six – in all honesty I don’t know.
— Better.
(George Orwell, Nineteen-Eighty-Four)

 

— How many lights do you see there?
— I see four lights.
— No, there are five. Are you quite sure?
— There are four lights. …
— I can produce pain in any part of your body at various levels of severity. Forgive me; I don’t enjoy this, but I must demonstrate. It will make everything clearer. …
— There … are … four … lights!
(“Chain of Command,” Star Trek: The Next Generation)

 

— Would you like some? I know they haven’t fed you since you got here. That’s at least two days. Besides, it’s lunchtime. Isn’t it? Isn’t it lunchtime?
— You just said it was morning.
— Well, you can’t have a corned-beef sandwich for breakfast. It would upset your stomach. Corned-beef sandwiches are for lunch. If it’s morning, you can’t have it. If it’s lunchtime you can. Is it lunchtime?
— I’m sure it’s lunchtime somewhere.
— Excellent answer. … It does prove, though, how everything is a matter of perspective. You think you see daylight, and you assume it’s morning. Take it away, you think it’s night. Offer you a sandwich: if it’s convenient, you’ll think it’s midday. The truth is fluid. The truth is subjective. Out there, it doesn’t matter what time it is. In here, it’s lunchtime if you and I decide that it is. The truth is sometimes what you believe it to be and other times what you decide it to be. My task is to make you decide to believe differently. And when that happens, the world will remake itself before your very eyes.
(“Intersections in Real Time,” Babylon 5)


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 19: Ewenn Congar

Passing from one Celtic tale of shape-shifting and sorcery to another (Breton this time, rather than Welsh), we come to Ewenn Congar (“Animated Tales of the World,” 2001).

This is also a version of the “Sorcerer’s Apprentice” story (it lacks the broomstick incident that for many is the only known part, but it includes the dueling-transformations incident toward the end).

There’s a shout-out to The Day the Earth Stood Still at 5:19 (“Klaatu barada nikto”), and another at 6:12 (a reference to Gort).


SciFi SongFest, Songs 58-59

I’ll let you figure out what these two songs have in common:

58. David Bowie, “Supermen” (1970):

Another version:

59. Laurie Anderson, “O Superman” (1981):

I was first introduced to this latter song, and to Laurie Anderson’s work generally, by the psychologist Michael Commons when I was working as his research assistant at the DARE Institute in Cambridge MA during my freshman year of college.

The line “When love is gone there’s always justice / when justice is gone there’s always force” is a paraphrase of a passage from Laozi’s Daodejing, while the line “Neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night shall stay these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds” is a variation on the unofficial motto of the u.s. postal service, borrowed in turn from Herodotus’s description of the mail service of the Persian Empire.


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 18: Y Mabinogi (a.k.a. Otherworld)

Several themes from Cap o’ Rushes – rash vows, unkind parents, unhappy wedding feasts, and highborn princesses wrongfully exiled and/or made into servants – continue in today’s extra-long installment, Y Mabinogi (2003), a (pleasingly faithful) animated version of the Welsh cycle of interrelated legends, the Mabinogion.

For the first eleven minutes or so, you may find yourself asking: a) how is this an animated version? and b) how is this a version of the Mabinogion? But all will become clear.

This story features one of the most famous examples of the “magic loopholes” I discussed here and here, where Lleu can be killed only when neither indoors nor outdoors, neither on horseback nor on foot, etc.

We get a glimpse of the white hounds with red ears, the Cŵn Annwn, that are associated with the Underworld in Welsh mythology, though sadly they don’t really do much here.

The visit of Branwen’s brothers to the Irish court is also reminiscent of the visit of Gudrun/Kriemhild’s brothers to Attila’s court in the Völsungasaga and Nibelungenlied, where similar jollity ensues.

The way that Efnysien deals with the 200 warriors lurking in the sacks of flour is similar to the way Marjanah deals with the 40(ish) thieves lurking in the jars of oil in the story of Ali Baba.

You’ll also notice much that George R. R. Martin may have borrowed for Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones, including a wounded King named Bran with psychic powers, a feast where the guests are betrayed, and an army of the resurrected dead.

(Of course this is not the only example of guests betrayed at a feast. Martin himself has mentioned two examples from Scottish history as inspirations: the “Black Dinner” (Edinburgh, 1440), and the Glencoe massacre (1692). Another famous example is the betrayal of the Greek mercenaries after the battle of Cunaxa in 401 BCE, as related in Xenophon’s Anabasis.

By contrast, the similar event that occurs near the beginning of Braveheart is, like much else in that movie, entirely fictional.)


SciFi SongFest, Songs 56-57

Two songs about the dangerous appeal of authoritarian saviours:

Someone to claim us, someone to follow
someone to shame us, some brave Apollo
someone to fool us, someone like you
we want you, Big Brother ….

You don’t have no self-respect
you feel like an insect ….
he’ll wrap you in his arms
tell you that you’ve been a good boy ….
he’ll reach deep into the hole
heal your shrinking soul ….
but hidden in his coat
is a red right hand ….

Bowie’s song is of course yet another nod to Orwell’s 1984; and Nick Cave’s, while officially a reference to Paradise Lost, would be perfect for the soundtrack of that long-promised remake of Stephen King’s The Stand, if that ever gets around to happening.

56. David Bowie, “Big Brother” (1974):

57. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “Red Right Hand” (1994):


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